


blueberry and bubblegum

by Lackystars



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, I'm making it a thing, M/M, Reunions, orsaike, rarepair?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-12-26 03:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18274649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lackystars/pseuds/Lackystars
Summary: "Wh-whoa! I'm going to fall!" Waike cries out, ungracefully wobbling on the ice. Instinctively, he reaches out for something to balance himself- but there's nothing, only the prospect of making a fool of them both. And yet, his hands are met by a familiar cold, like they once were ten years ago."Don't worry. I've got your back," Orsem says, positively infectious grin on his face. "Forever and always."





	blueberry and bubblegum

Another night, another hunt. That's how he always liked it. The thrill of seeing evil pay for their crimes, to see justice prosper- it was a feeling like none other. It made him feel  _alive_. The noble thief stills his breath, training his eyes on the shadowy figure. It appears to have entered the lake now. Waike flattens himself along a nearby tree and begins to draw his bow. 

The target- Sir Caled. A corrupt noble that exploited the common folk by raising their taxes to ridiculously high rates. His reign of terror would end tonight, one way or another. The location- a lake that said noble often visited. Preliminary investigation revealed that Caled would visit this lake during his leisurely evening strolls. It was the perfect time to strike. The evildoer would be alone and vulnerable. Waike could attack from under the cover of darkness- one arrow, and it would all be over. 

_Thwang._

And... nothing. The target is still standing. 

"Damn it," Waike mutters under his breath. It isn't like him to miss. 

The blue haired sylvan begins to notch another arrow, when suddenly, the figure begins to move. No, not move. It's almost as if he's... gliding across the water's surface. Slowly, but surely, the figure picks up speed. Faster and faster, the figure continues to glide around the lake. Then he jumps. And in that brief moment, under the pale moonlight, a glint of blue is reflected from the silhouette as it gracefully twirls in the air and lands with flair. A mesmerizing dance. 

Waike shakes his head, trying to snap himself out of his trance. He can't afford to be distracted now. But for some inexplicable reason, he can't bring himself to let loose the arrow, can't bring himself to relieve the persistent tension in his arm muscles. His gloves feel like wet bags of sand. With a sigh, he lowers his bow, and takes a step out from the cover of the trees. 

"Caled!" he calls out, stern expression on his face. "Your wicked acts end tonight!"

The figure stops, somehow standing on top of the middle of the lake. Upon closer inspection, a thin layer of ice forms around his feet. Then he slowly makes his way to Waike.

He's silent at first, violet eyes looking up at the thief with curiosity. "Caled? That's a pretty weird name, to be honest," he says with a small shrug. Running a hand through his pastel blue hair nonchalantly, a small smile forms on his face. "Are you hungry? If you skate with me, we can grab a bite to eat after." 

"What?" Waike blurts out unintentionally. He narrows his eyes in suspicion. This man was Caled... right? But for some reason, he looks a lot younger than Waike had expected. "I mean, enough! Your pretty words can't save you now. Submit, and I'll make it quick." 

(Waike is terrible with names and faces.)

"Oh, alright. If you say so." the stranger says with a small pout. But in the blink of an eye, there's a deathly sharp dagger against Waike's neck. The other male stands dangerously close. The noble thief freezes up in shock. How could he be so careless? He gulps, trying not to make any sudden movements.

"Now, let's not be  _too_ hasty. I think we can have a bit of fun, first. Isn't that right, Waike?" the stranger asks, same cheery tone as if he's merely discussing the weather, and not in a position to kill him with a flick of the wrist. 

Waike bites his lip in confusion. "How do you know my name...?" is all that he can muster up. 

The stranger sighs, his blue ears drooping in disappointment. "You really don't remember, huh?" 

"...You're not Caled, are you?"

The stranger lets go of Waike, crossing his arms. The thief steps a respectable distance away from the other sylvan, ready to draw his bow if need be- but for some reason, he can't help but to stare at the other man. Threads of recognition are starting to entwine, but his memory eludes him all the same. 

The crestfallen expression on the stranger's face turns into one of irritation. "No, you idiot! It's me! Orsem!" he exclaims.

Waike averts his gaze, unable to meet the stranger's purple eyes. "Sorry. Doesn't ring a bell." 

Orsem groans exasperatedly. "Ugh, I can't believe you! Am I that forgettable? I'm really hurt, Waike. You're the worst!" 

"Please forgive me, but I have no idea what you are talking about." 

Orsem is quiet. Suddenly, he reaches out for Waike's scarf, and takes it off of him.

Waike immediately frowns and tries to snatch it back, only for Orsem to tauntingly keep it out of his reach. "What the hell are you doing? Don't touch that!" 

_It's precious to me._

Orsem nods, as if he heard the words that were never said. "I know. I  _know_ , Waike." 

And out of the blue, it comes all rushing back. 

* * *

_Childish laughter filled the air of memories past, when times were calmer still and Northern Graestea knew a sort of peace. Here in this cold and small village, Waike's nobility held no meaning in the eyes of the other sylvan children, here he thought, I can be myself. The food was but gray boiled sop and the drafts most cold, but the time he spent was most precious._

_"Father... Do we really have to be here? I don't like it. The food is gross and it's too cold." a sylvan boy says, pouting as he fidgets with his cravat. His hands shake, and the falling snow is making his ears twitch._

_He is met with a swift reprimand. "Enough, Waike. We are here for business. Behave yourself and do not sully our house's name. Do not make us look bad."_

_"I know, but it's just so boring! Everyone is talking about things I don't understand..." Waike protests._

_The father sighs. "It's important for you to go out and explore the world. Not everyone shares the life we have at the castle. One day, you'll have to reach out to the common folk."_

_"...Okay."_

_"Good. Why don't you take a look around the village some more? Who knows, you might make a new friend."_

_The father leaves his son to his own devices. Waike walks around, shuffling his feet, powdery snow on his brown boots. He starts heading off in the direction of the forest. He doesn't know where he's going, but... he's going somewhere. It's okay if he gets lost. Nobody would miss him anyway._

_Eventually, he comes across a large clearing. In the center of it is a frozen lake. There's a boy, gliding across the shimmering white surface. He has light blue hair and wild purple eyes, sparkling with joy._ _Waike doesn't say anything. He can only watch, captivated- there is nothing else but the movements of the boy, the curl of his lips as he successfully pulls off a twirl. There is no frigid cold, no white snow, no anxiety in his heart, for there is only him and the skater._

_And then the spell breaks. Before he knows it, the skater is right in front of his face, smiling widely. Waike instinctively takes a step back; the other boy is so close to him..._

_"Hey, hey! I saw you watching me. Do you wanna try?" the boy asks with a tilt of his head._

_"Try what?" Waike blurts out._

_"Skating! C'mon, it'll be really fun!"_

_Waike looks down sheepishly. "I... I don't know."_

_A pout begins to form on the boy_ 's face. _"Oh, don't be like that now. It's not hard at all."_

_"Um... but I don't have any skates or anything."  
_

_"Not a problem!" the boy says. He walks over to a nearby tree where a bag is placed, and retrieves a pair of thick boots that have thin metal blades on the soles._

_"What are those?" Waike asks curiously, pointing at the shoes._

_"Skates! Put them on, and you can dance on the ice like I do!" the boy answers._

_Waike bites his lip."Uhh… okay."_

_But despite his apprehension, Waike doesn't resist when the boy helps him put on the strange shoes. For some reason, they fit perfectly. Did the boy just go around carrying skates of all sizes?_ _The dark blue haired sylvan_ _stands up, trying to balance on the thin blades. It's a weird sensation, but not too difficult. He takes a tentative step forward and is pleasantly surprised when he doesn't immediately fall flat on his face._

 _"Nice! Let's give it a shot!" the boy sings in a cheery tone. Waike follows the boy to the lake. The boy steps on to the frozen surface as if it's the most natural thing ever. Waike tries to copy his actions, but as soon as the blades come into contact with the ice, his legs give way and he lands on his rear. "Ow..." he murmurs, wincing in pain. He begins to sniffle sadly._  
  
The other boy can't help but to laugh. "Sorry! Don't cry, you're all right. I should have told you that the ice can be really slippery." _He kneels down, perfectly balanced, and extends a hand to Waike. "Take my hand. Trust me, I won't let you fall again."_

_Waike doesn't immediately respond. Instead, he asks the question that has been lingering on his mind. "...What is your name?"_

_A small smile forms on the boy's face. "Oh, right. It's Orsem. And you?"_

_"Waike."_

_"Well Waike, nice to meet ya. Now let's have some fun!"_

_Waike nods and takes Orsem's hand- but upon contact, he involuntarily flinches. It's as if he's plunging his hand in icy water. "C-cold..." he stammers out._

_Orsem chuckles. "Ah, my body is naturally attuned to ice mana. That's why I feel pretty cold all the time." he explains._

_The two slowly stand up. Again, Waike's body wobbles, unaccustomed to the sudden shift in balance required._

_"I'm going to fall!"_

_"Don't worry. I've got your back." Orsem says. Waike holds onto him as he corrects his posture. "Yeah, just like that. Now all you gotta do is push off on one leg and balance on it. Like you're walking... but gliding on the ice!"_

_Easier said than done._

* * *

_"Orsem… I'm going home tomorrow." Waike says one evening. It's the third night in this rural village, and Waike's father is all done with the business here. Tomorrow, they would make their way back to their homeland. Tomorrow, there would be no more ice skating. These past few days have been some of the most fun in his life, and he's sad to see it go. Tears begin to pool in the corners of his eyes. "What will happen when me and my father leave?"_

_"I guess you'll go and be a fancy noble, with a lot of servants with a big house." Orsem answers in a quiet voice._

_"I'll miss you, that's for sure."_

_Orsem shakes his head. "Don't say that. That sounds like we'll never meet again. And I know that's not true. Maybe it will take a year, or maybe even ten, but one day, we will go ice skating again. I promise." Orsem affirms, surprisingly solemn._

_"'Sem..."_

_"You won't forget me, right?" Or_ _sem's voice trembles as looks at his hands. He was friends with everyone yes, but there was a kinship he would dearly miss with Waike. And suddenly, he's brought into a warm embrace. Orsem's arms move to reciprocate the gesture. He can feel Waike involuntarily shiver from the cold of his body, but still, the noble sylvan hugs him tightly._

_"I won't forget you. I don't I think ever could." Waike says. He holds out a pinky finger, and his friend does the same, curled around his._

_Orsem smiles kindly. "That's a promise Waike! Don't forget it!"_

_They spend the rest of the night merrily talking about their dreams, their fears, and everything in between. And the morning after, just before Waike leaves, Orsem gives him a present._

_A red scarf._

* * *

 Waike blinks slowly in shock. "'Sem..." is all that he can muster up. He takes a step back, and looks at the other sylvan. "...It really is you, isn't it? Fie, I can't believe it!" 

Orsem rolls his eyes in exasperation. "Yes, you dummy. Took ya long enough. Seriously Waike, you're terrible."

"I-I... I'm sorry, Orsem. I just... I mean, I didn't  _want_ to forget you," Waike stammers out. He bites his lip as he stares at the ground. "But several years later when I visited the village again, I never saw you. There was a small part of me that believed that you would be there waiting for me. We would go ice skating, like we once did as children. But... that never happened. And... when I tried to protect the village from the king's harsh taxes, I heard they were all put down as radicals." 

Orsem is quiet. "I ran away from home. And yes, while the villages in my homeland have seen better days, there is still hope. To this day, the survivors are fighting to regain their former glory." Orsem explains. 

"Please forgive me... Actually no, I am not worthy of forgiveness- but I shall do anything in my power to help you." 

"Waike, it's all in the past now. We should be skating to our dreams, no matter where they may take us." 

"I gave up on you, Orsem. I thought you died. I broke our promise. I'm sorry. I'm  _sorry._ " Waike chokes out. The corners of his eyes turn misty red and he quivers as if he's about to start crying.

A sad smile appears on Orsem's face. Waike was still a crybaby like always. But... there was something endearing about it. "It's okay. It doesn't matter anymore. We're still friends, right?" Orsem says. He places Waike's scarf over his neck. 

Waike is silent. He steps forward and wraps his arms around Orsem tightly. He tilts his head so that it's buried deep in the crook of his neck. Muffled sobs soon emanate from the noble thief. "I, I missed you so much. Too much. Words can't describe the joy nor the pain of seeing you again. It-it feels like a dream. I'm just glad you're okay. You're okay." Waike murmurs between broken sobs. 

Orsem pats Waike comfortingly. "I missed you too, Waike. I've waited an eternity and then some more for this very moment. And I wouldn't trade anything in the world for it."

The two break apart from their embrace. Waike has a goofy smille on his face. "Even ice skating?" he teases. 

"Hey! Don't make me choose." Orsem exclaims, pouting. "But... why can't I have both?" he smirks. He quickly retrieves a pair of ice skates from his bag and presents it to Waike proudly. "You know, you never broke our promise. We're going ice skating again." 

Waike nods, a contented smile on his face as he puts on the skates. He isn't sure if he's doing it properly, but when he stands up and walks around in them, it doesn't feel bad at all. 

Orsem leads him to the lake- it's not a frozen lake like the one in his village, but he says that the ice mana imbued within the blades worked to freeze the surface of the water. Waike is apprehensive at first, but then his foot meets solid ice instead of water. That being said, he isn't prepared for the sudden change in surface tension. 

"Wh-whoa! I'm going to fall!" Waike cries out, ungracefully wobbling on the ice. Instinctively, he reaches out for something to balance himself- but there's nothing, only the prospect of making a fool of them both. And yet, his hands are met by a familiar cold, like they once were ten years ago.

"Don't worry. I've got your back," Orsem says, positively infectious grin on his face. "Forever and always."

"'Sem..." Waike says, returning the smile.

"Take my hand. Trust me, I won't let you fall again."

And even when Waike can balance all by himself, he still continues to hold Orsem's hand.


End file.
